The Intruder
by ThisMutualWeirdness
Summary: A possible begininning for 'Significant Others'... Castle and Beckett receive a rude awakening from a not-so-welcome guest.


The lights blinked and sparkled beyond the thick paned window, hinting at the hectic city beyond and dimly lighting the slumbering couple within. The city that never sleeps, filled with intrigue and stories, joy and despair, life and murder. Yet nothing could penetrate the cocoon this pair had formed within the immense bed- it could all wait. At first it appeared there was only a solitary man in the bed, his face peaceful, brown hair ruffled in sleep. Only when looking closer could you make out the faint hints of the figure that lay beneath the heavy covers, curled up tightly into his side, chestnut waves peeking out onto the pillow.

There they slept on, too entwined in their exhaustion to hear the gentle closing of a door, the creak of a floorboard and the soft breath of the intruder. A dark shape passed through the semi-open door, its movement slightly shaky but determined as it crept towards its target. A shadow was cast over the man as the figure leant over him and in one swift motion, placed a knee beside him and swung another leg over his body, effectively pinning him down as a pale arm came up. The leg connected with the body of the woman hidden beneath the covers and the pair woke with a start as they became aware of their intruder, three distinct cries ripping through the silent night.

The woman beneath the covers leapt upwards, throwing the blanket away from her as her hand curled around the gun on the bedside table and bringing it up to the assailants head in one electric fast, fluid movement.

"Don't move a muscle," Beckett hissed at the intruder, already in full control of her senses. Castle lay frozen beneath the mystery person, bewildered, mouth slightly open in shock, sleep still clouding his comically wide eyes.

"Rick, make this woman take her gun away from my head!" the assailant shrieked loudly, making him flinch. Then his jaw dropped.

"MEREDITH?"

The three were frozen in limbo for long seconds. Footsteps echoed from outside as a fourth person burst forward into the room.

"What the hell is going on Richard?" Martha cried as she hit a switch and light flooded the room, making all the occupants squint in pain. She became just as still as them as she took in the scene before her. Her eyes flicked over her son, lying in his bed, her ex-daughter-in-law straddling his waist and Kate beside them, her gun pressed into Meredith's temple. "What the hell is going on?" she repeated, regaining her voice.

"Why is she still holding a gun to my head?" Meredith's high-pitched voice squealed.

"Kate, darling, maybe you should lower the gun," Martha told her, trying to gain some control of the situation. Kate did, very slowly, almost reluctantly as she overcame her astonishment. To her credit, Meredith appeared to realise that now was a good time to climb off of her former husband. He sat up too, seemingly still speechless as his eyes flicked between his ex-wife, his girlfriend and his mother. "Meredith, what on _Earth_ are you doing here?" Martha asked, her voice incredulous and tinged with the acid she reserved only for Alexis' absentee mother.

"I came to see my darling daughter of course," she sniffed, "to look after her while she's ill." Martha rolled her eyes. The woman was terrible actress, no finesse.

"_Alexis_ is in _her_ room. Asleep. As we all were into you came in causing all this hullaballoo!" Martha snapped at her curtly.

"Me?!" Meredith cried, "_she_ was the one who tried to shoot me!" She threw a shaky finger in Kate's direction, who was still gripping the gun and looking a little like she wished she had. Martha shot her son a look. He seemed to snap out of his daze, raising a hand to rub over his face and finally turning to his hysterical ex-wife.

"She wasn't going to shoot you Meredith. But what the hell do you expect when you come sneaking into our bed in the middle of the night?" he sighed, exasperated.

"'Our bed'? She's _living_ with you?" Meredith latched onto the pronoun, avoiding the question. Castle felt Beckett shift uncomfortably beside him and he cursed himself. This was not a situation he would have imagined himself in at three in the morning after only an hours sleep.

"I think we should take this into the living room," his mother stepped in again to save him and he shot her grateful look. "Let me get you a drink Meredith while these two make themselves a little more… respectable." The two actresses left the room, leaving the mortified couple alone.

Castle turned towards Beckett but she was already swinging out of the bed, her hand tugging through her hair as she slammed her gun back down on the bedside table.

"Kate…" he murmured, throwing the covers off of himself and clambering across the bed towards her. She turned and faced him, pressing a palm against his bare chest as he tried to reach for her.

"What the hell just happened Castle?" she gritted, "why does your ex-wife think it is acceptable to climb into your bed in the middle of the night?"

"Okay… well, remember when she was here last?" he started cautiously.

"Hard to forget," she grumbled.

"Right. Well. Like I said… our relationship is… complicated. I told you she was like a deep fried Twinkie and that…"

"Right. I remember," she snapped, her nose crinkling in disgust, "but why is she climbing into your bed when she knows we're together?" Castle squinted up at her sheepishly. Her glare bore into him and he squirmed uncomfortably, this was one of her more potent ones. "You didn't tell her." It was a statement.

"I thought Alexis…" he began weakly. She growled in frustration and began to move away but his arm snaked out and curled around her waist, drawing her into him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her stomach. He felt her relax against him just a little and her fingers trailed through the soft hair at the back of his neck.

"I'm not angry with you…" she sighed as he pressed a kiss into the bare skin peeking out between her vest and underwear. Then she was pulling away. He gave her a guarded, hurt look. "I'm not," she insisted, "but I've just been woken up by your ex-wife kicking me as she violently straddled you beside me. So give me some time. Ok?" Castle nodded and grimaced as he remembered the surreal scene. He watched her pad away from him and into the bathroom, slipping the door shut, the tap running a moment later. With a sigh, he climbed out of the bed and grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, slipping them on before heading out of the room to deal with his mother and his ex-wife.


End file.
